


breathe

by CallofTheCurlew



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Doubting the Lord's Way, Fluff, M/M, Religious Reflection, These two are cute as hell, mcpriceley, they find comfort in each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-19 11:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22543735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallofTheCurlew/pseuds/CallofTheCurlew
Summary: They’re all concerned, all of them shouting and talking and Connor briefly makes sense of some of their words – “Turn it off. Come on, Elder McKinley, just turn it off!”He can’t turn it off, though. Not anymore. That’s a Mormon trick, and Connor McKinley is no longer a Mormon. None of them are.(Set shortly after the end of the musical)
Relationships: Elder "Connor" McKinley/Kevin Price
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	breathe

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen the Australian production of BoM 4 times this year, and I've got tickets to #5 and #6 before they leave for New Zealand. Our McKinley, Joel Granger, is the most amazing person I got the pleasure to meet at stage door and I'm lowkey obsessed. In fact, the entire cast is just _amazing_ and I love them all so much. 
> 
> So then I ended up here, writing Book of Mormon fanfic because this show is the only thing I can think about. See you in hell! 
> 
> (Also, I love that the fandom has just adopted "Connor" as McKinley's first name?? So fun.)

Connor McKinley can't breathe.  
  
He sits in the corner of the room, arms wrapped around his knees that are pulled tight to his chest. What little air he does get comes in deep shuddering gasps, darkness descending. He feels completely, utterly alone as he drowns in his own thoughts.  
  
Except he's not alone.  
  
The other boys are talking at him, even though he can’t hear them. Poptart’s hands are on his raised knees, eyes wide as he tries to get his attention. His eyes are so wide and Connor sees them without really seeing them, catatonic as he spirals downwards forever. They’re all concerned, all of them shouting and talking and Connor briefly makes sense of some of their words – “Turn it off. Come on, Elder McKinley, just turn it off!”  
  
He can’t turn it off, though. Not anymore. That’s a Mormon trick, and Connor McKinley is no longer a Mormon. None of them are.  
  
The thought sends him into another wave of convulsions and he feels like he’s going to be sick. He feels his stomach twist and he plants both hands on the ground to hoist himself up, to at least stagger to the pit toilet or maybe outside; somewhere away from the encouraging voices of his companions who haven’t seem to felt the gravity of the situation.  
  
“Elder McKinley?”  
  
The voice feels like the rope of salvation, pulling him from the choppy waters of his mind. A medic, hauling him up from the trenches where he lays bruised and bloody. Kevin Price, who has a smile like sunshine and eyes as bright as stars. The same boy that had flung Connor into a flurry of daydreams he never wanted to emerge from. Connor had never met another like him; not even Steve Blade could compare. Price is a young man with a heart as big as the earth itself and resolve that pushes against the greatest barriers. He can hear how dramatic his inner monologue is but at the very least, Kevin's voice has stopped Connor’s hands from shaking and he drags his head up to stare at him.  
  
“What are you doin’, pal?” Kevin asks softly, but from the look in his eye, Connor wonders if he might already know.  
  
“Elder-“ Connor cuts himself off with a grimace, and the other boys scatter as Kevin steps forward with purpose, reaching for him with a large hand.  
  
Connor takes it despite his body that feels both heavy but also like jelly, staggering as he gets to his feet and sways for a moment. He’s lost, but Kevin’s hand in his grounds him, if only for a moment. 

"Come on," he says, and he pulls Connor towards the door. 

Immediately Connor puts on the breaks, heels planted, but Kevin's strong. Weirdly so. Connor staggers as his body resists heading to the door. 

"We're going for a walk," Kevin tells him firmly, but Connor shakes his head. 

"We-- We can't, Elder Price! Rule 23- we can't leave the-" 

Kevin stares at him with a furrowed brow, his mouth in a thin line. Connor pauses as he realises he's lapsed completely back into the man he was twenty-four hours ago. Rules and consequences scream at Connor, they tell him that he has to be good, that he has to follow the rules or he won't see the latter days... 

It doesn't matter, and Kevin waits for him to come to terms with it. It takes a long moment before Connor stares up at him from under his eyelashes, his mouth barely open as his jaw tightens. He looks like a deer in the headlights; sad and frightened and so, so lost. 

"Don't be scared," Kevin tells him softly, the grip on his hand tightening as he walks with purpose to the door. Connor follows with slow steps. 

"What about the lions... or the scorpions?" Connor finally murmurs, but Kevin just looks back at him with a raised eyebrow. 

"I passed out at the bus stop and I woke up fine..." 

"Fine?" it's the first smile Kevin's seen on Connor's face all afternoon, "Says the man who then walked straight into the General's camp and got a book shoved up his-" 

"Hush!" Kevin shudders at the memory, pushing through the front door and out into the fresh air. It's still hot, somehow, despite the fact that the sun disappeared hours ago. 

"I don't want to go too far," Connor tells him, and this time he means it. He was well warned of the horrors, and navigating the terrain with the threat of death in every step isn't something he wants to add to his stress levels. 

Kevin listens, and within seconds he's hoisting himself up onto the roof. It's an easy enough climb; the loose boards and stray nails provide ample footholds and soon enough he's sitting on top. 

"Seriously?" 

"You didn't want to go far," Kevin shrugs. 

There's something about him, something different. He's quieter and more reserved, but that little spark of hope is unwavering. He's been changed, but Connor isn't sure if it's for the better yet. At least thinking about Kevin's mood stops him from feeling the crushing anxiety that looms over him whenever he thinks about going home.

"Are you coming?" 

It takes a moment of scrambling and searching for footholds before Connor lands next to him, heaving a long breath. The stars shine down on them, unnecessarily bright and beautiful. The city lights could never compare to how real it all feels. He can hear babies wailing in the distance, and someone else is yelling. There's flies buzzing around something somewhere, but it's so natural and peaceful that the sounds just fade into each breath he takes.

"Are you okay?" 

Kevin's voice is soft, barely daring to break the serenity. 

"I'm better now." 

"What sent you spiralling?" 

Connor turns his head to glare at him pointedly, as if the last twenty-four hours hadn't uprooted their entire lives, "Want to take a guess?" 

Kevin laughs quietly, "Yeah, but what most?" he asks. 

"Does it matter?" 

"You should talk about how you're feeling." 

"Or... I could just turn it off," he says, and he forces that too-big smile, eyes brightening to follow it until he feels Kevin's hand over his mouth. 

Connor recoils from his hand, blinking in surprise. 

"No, we don't just 'turn it off'," Kevin chastises him lightly, "When we first got here, the Ugandan's taught us a little saying they use when things get tough," he explains, and Connor nods. He and the other boys had experienced something similar, much to their horror, "And while I don't necessarily agree with the message, they did teach me one thing. Sometimes you just have to acknowledge that things suck sometimes, and talk about them. You have to list off the bad things that are happening." 

"But talking about it doesn't change anything," Connor protests lightly, though his heart isn't in it, "At least if you push it down and pretend it doesn't exist, then you can't get hurt by it."

"Has that ever worked?" Kevin asks, and Connor goes quiet, "Or are you just pretending not to be hurt over your pretend not-feelings?"

"Hush..." Connor echoes him weakly, his mouth twisting as he stares down at his knees. 

Kevin gives him a moment before he digs again, "So?" he asks expectantly, "What's hurting you?" 

It takes two more deep breaths before Connor's ready to speak, and when he does he straightens up and looks at the stars, if only so he doesn't have to look at Kevin. 

"I guess..." he starts, frowning up at the stars and trying to actually identify a feeling. He skates past the fear, so used to pushing it all away that it takes him another few moments to let it in, "It's...the failure," he says, and when Kevin doesn't say anything, he presses on, "Failing the church, and failing the other Elders..." 

Kevin nods, "Failing's scary," he murmurs quietly, "I thought I failed, too." 

There's another one of those rare, soft smiles, "When you left the lodging, when you left Elder Cunningham to his own devices, or when you decided to face off with the General on your own?" 

Kevin chuckles lightly, but he shakes his head, "When I was sent to Uganda, instead of Orlando," he says, and Connor's head tilt spurs him on, "I spent the entire flight combing through every inch of my life, every impure thought, every wrong step, trying to understand where I went so completely wrong. Heavenly Father failed me that day and I tried to be okay with it, with every step..." 

"But He just kept leading you astray?" 

Kevin is quiet, and Connor thinks he knows why. It goes unspoken between them, but Kevin's lack of faith had surfaced earlier as well. His doubt that the Lord even existed was even scarier to Connor than failing was. The thought was there though, for Connor; planted by this reckless boy that he hadn't known for very long. He could keep those thoughts buried for another day though - it was too much for right now 

The silence stretches and Connor returns to staring back up at the stars, thoughts creeping towards the things that made him ache inside. The feelings and thoughts and emotions that scream back, dying to be let out. He has to be gentle, he knows, or they'll all flood in and overwhelm him in the worst way. 

"We're bad Mormons," Connor acknowledges slowly, testing out the phrase. 

"Yeah," Kevin replies quietly, "But we're good people...and if there is a Heavenly Father up there, I would hope that being a good person is what He cares about."

They're silent again as Connor reflects on that, and he starts to feel a flutter of hope; that maybe Kevin is right.

Kevin shifts, and then suddenly Connor feels the warm press of his hand, Kevin's long fingers curling until they're entwined with Connor's. Subconsciously, Connor had used every opportunity he could to hold Kevin's hand. To show him the bedroom, to escort him here and there, pretending it was nothing. But he _likes_ holding Kevin's hand. It feels dangerous, and his heart flutters and his breath catches and he feels like he's ten years old again.

He looks over curiously, and Kevin just smiles, gentle and comforting and Connor can't help himself, leaning against his shoulder. Kevin leans in as well and they hold each other up, Connor's eyes closing easily as he relaxes. 

"Is this okay?" 

Kevin knows he's talking about more than just the hand holding, "You mean, does it make us bad people?" 

Connor nods against his shoulder and hides his smile against the crisp whiteness of his shirt. Whatever his meaning, Connor's grateful that they don't have to talk about it. That they can exist as an 'us' and both be on the same page. 

"What do you think?" 

"Being gay is bad," Connor parrots the only thing he knows, before he corrects himself quietly, "The Mormon faith says that... being gay gets in the way of our eternal progress...that we cannot reach exaltation without the marriage between a man and a woman. It's God's plan for us to create families."

Kevin nods, "That's what we were told."

It's another constant mantra that Connor has heard from the other man a couple of times now. What they were told. It sends shivers down his spine and he swallows thickly, pressing his forehead against Kevin's shoulder. 

"Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest," 

Connor pulls away from his shoulder. A verse from the Book was the last thing he expected from Kevin. 

"Huh?" 

Kevin shrugs, "You don't have to stop believing. Just because I'm suffering an existential crisis doesn't mean you have to." 

Connor rolls his eyes, "Now you tell me," he teases softly, before settling back against the warm press of his shoulder. 

It's starting to cool, and the wind ripples their shirts against their backs. They're still holding hands, tucked up against each other beneath the stars. For the first time Connor actually feels... whole. Like there's no expectations to be a good son, a good Mormon, a good district leader. He just feels safe here, with Kevin Price on the roof where the other problems of his life don't seem so scary. 

He doesn't know what he believes, and he's scared of his feelings about God and what they might mean. There's more conversations to be had, and maybe he needs to speak to his parents as well about this all (a terrifying thought, more terrifying than lions and scorpions and failing and not believing in God). He's scared, and terrified, and mortified and petrified and most of all he's confused. 

But for now, on this roof, Connor McKinley can breathe.


End file.
